Plight of the Unfortunate
by HaleyDub
Summary: The problem of the children becomes, in these swarms, to the last degree perplexing. Their very number makes one stand aghast. -Jacob A. Riis
1. one

_ Dearest Cassia, _

She ceased writing for a moment. The rain beat down in melodic torrents, soaking her hair and running in streams down her face, mingling with her tears. The ink ran down the paper, but her letter was still legible, and so she touched the tip of the pen to it once again. 

_ I should have never left home._


	2. two

Mairead Stamboulos sat huddled in a gloomy doorway on Duane Street, directly across from a building with a hanging sign that read, "Newsboys Lodging House". In the two days that she had been huddled in the doorway of an abandoned building, she had taken in every detail about the house. There hung a notice over the front door: "Boys who swear and chew tobacco cannot sleep here." From this she had taken that only boys lived in the building, but now she was desperate. 

Mairead had wandered all over lower Manhattan. She had slept in seven-cent lodging houses, stayed in all-night two-cent restaurants, and found refuge in doorways, churchyards, parks, and sewer grates in places like Blind Man's Alley, the Bend, Gotham Court, and Bottle Alley. She had encountered bandits, opium addicts, drunks, and all sorts of vermin dwelling in the slums of New York City, and had quickly realized that she might have been better off in Vermont. 

Her knees knocking, Mairead stood, bracing herself against the wall. She'd had nothing to eat since two days before, since she was trying to save her money until she could find work. Several surrounding factories had turned her down for labor, the overseers insisting that they had more than enough help as it was. Mairead was afraid to ask strangers for advice on where she might find a job, so now she was awaiting her chance for something to just come along. To her luck, or so she thought, she was now directly across the street from a newsboys' lodging house, likely run by the Children's Aid Society. 

Slowly, she began to make her way down the street, attempting to find some means of acquiring a disguise. A gust of wind blew a man's cabby hat off his head; before he could find it, Mairead had snatched it up, concealing it within the tattered remains of her traveling coat. When the man was gone, she stuffed it into her small bag. 

Mairead walked several blocks over to the Roosevelt Street tenement, where the dwellers had hung their now sopping laundry out to dry on lines that crossed from one side of the alleyway to the other. A men's pair of pants that had been weighed down by the rain was lying in a muddy puddle on the street below; Mairead picked them up and bundled them in her arms. Then, she began to run, and as she ran, she reached up and snatched a shirt off the line. Angry yells followed as she ran as fast as her weak legs could carry her. 

Finding a dark corner in an out-of-the-way alley, Mairead quickly changed into the sopping men's clothes, which turned out to be much too large for her form. She piled her long hair up into the cabby hat, but it barely stayed atop her head for the black strands threatening to push it off. Several stray curls escaped in the back, which she took no notice of as she tried to stuff her clothes into her small bag. However, she failed, and she angrily threw her soiled dress, stockings, and various pieces of clothing to the ground. Mairead then stuffed her traveling coat into the bag and set off toward Duane Street once again, the rain beating her face. 

Meekly, the young woman climbed the stairs to the front door. Her hand shaking, she raised it to knock on the door. After a moment, it was answered by an elderly man who gave her a suspicious look as soon as he laid eyes on her. "Can I help ye?" 

Mairead fought to lower her voice and replace her refined dialect with a New York accent. "I'se lookin' for a bunk." 

The old man squinted at her and opened the door wider. "Come on in... sir." 

Mairead swallowed hard and stepped inside. The room was drafty and dimly-lit, but it was warmer than the doorstep. Right away she took notice of several boys lounging around the lobby - one wearing an eyepatch, one smoking a cigar, and one with a red bandanna tied around his neck. The young man with the bandanna eyed her as she followed the elderly man to a desk, where he opened a ledger and slapped a pen down on the counter in front of her. 

"'Fore ye sign, y'gotta give me proof of identity an' proof that'cha don't have anywhere else to live," the old man stated indifferently. 

Mairead nearly forgot to cover her voice. "But I - What kind of proof do you mean?" 

"Trouble Kloppman?" 

The young man with the bandanna had seen fit to saunter up to the counter beside Mairead. She swallowed hard and tried not to look at him. 

Kloppman, the old man, narrowed his eyes at the Mairead and looked up at Jack. "_He_ wants to know what kind'a proof I need so he can live here, that's what." 

Mairead flinched under Kloppman's emphasis on the word "he". 

"Proof, eh?" the young man asked, his eyes glinting. With one swift motion, he lifted his hand and struck out at Mairead, knocking her hat off her head. It landed on the hard wooden floor without so much as a sound. The boy smirked and stuck his hands in his pockets. 

She gasped, her lip trembling. Kloppman's face softened. "Girl, I know ya need someplace to stay. There's girls' boardin' houses all over th' city. Go find ya one. They got better beds there." 

Mairead mustered up all her courage. "B-but please, can't I stay here? I wouldn't do any harm - " 

"You heard the man, girl," the young man with the bandanna put in coldly. "Run on home t' yer ma." 

"I can't," she whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek. 

The other two young men had since joined the boy with the bandanna and were watching Mairead. Flipping his cigar, the short Italian interjected. "Y'need somebody to show ya outta here, girl, or can ya find the door on yer own?" 

"I can't go back outside," she answered weakly. "I have no money and no food - " 

"Well, you get a job to remedy that, _ma'am_," the young man with the bandanna cut in sharply. The corners of his eyes crinkled like he was going to laugh, but the Italian beat him to it, and soon the two were laughing at Mairead like she was only a pun in a dime novel. 

The young man with the eyepatch, who had been silent until that point, asked, "What's ya name, girl?" 

"Mairead. Mairead Stamboulos," she answered softly. 

"What kind of a name is that?" the Italian laughed. He and his friend were getting quite the kick out of the young woman's plight. 

"Greek - " she answered, but the young man wearing the eyepatch cut her off. 

"Ain't no use in answerin'," he said. "Why don't ya mind Kloppman here and go your way? Find a girls' house or somethin'." 

Mairead accepted defeat when the young man took her by the arms and gently led her toward the door. "There's houses for girls all over the city. You won't have no problem findin' a bed to sleep in." 

_But I have no money,_ Mairead thought as the boy left her on the doorstep of the lodging house, going back inside and closing the door behind him. She could still hear the other two young men inside laughing. A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she crossed the street and reclaimed her old spot huddled in the corner of the abandoned doorway. 


	3. three

A thick mist clouded the city streets early the next morning. Mairead was curled up in her doorway. Her body ached from head to toe and her stomach screamed with hunger. Sniffling, she changed position, careful to remain wrapped up in her tattered coat. Visions of home flooded her mind for the hundredth time that morning as she lay there in the cold, and once again she regretted leaving her home. 

Mairead had been born into a well-off Vermont family. Her parents were a strange match; her mother was Celtic and her father was Greek. She had one younger sister, Cassia, who was 14 - two years younger than Mairead. The two had always been very close growing up, and when Mairead left home it had hurt Cassia very deeply. 

Mairead had always felt cold toward her family's way of life: parties, socializing, and the like. Her personality tended to repel the young men and ladies of the society, and she often found herself sitting alone, sipping tea and pretending to enjoy herself. She wasn't the most attractive young lady, but she wasn't homely, either; she had long, curly black hair, fair skin, and brooding, dark brown eyes. Mairead was intelligent in the way of books, but she had grown up under the impression that booksmarts were useless to a woman. Her parents never mistreated her, but Mairead had always, in the back of her mind, felt completely and utterly useless. It was for this reason that she ultimately made the decision to run. 

Aboard the late train to New York City, Mairead thought she had everything in the world going for her. She had packed lightly, insisting to herself that, once in New York, she would be able to find new clothes and a place to live. The thought of attaining a job had never once crossed her mind, and by the time she realized exactly how much money she would have to posess to survive, she was nearly penniless. 

Mairead's search for an occupation had so far proved fruitless, and now she was sleeping in a doorway, lowered to the station that she had always been taught to despise and ignore. 

Rubbing her eyes, she pulled herself up into a sitting position against the wall. A bell was clanging in the distance; Mairead knew that it wasn't the church bell, since it was Tuesday and not Sunday. She distantly wondered if it was the circulation bell that rang every morning, beckoning the newsboys to the circulation offices to buy their morning editions. Her answer came after a moment when the door to the lodging house suddenly swung open. Out poured a large group of boys, several talking amongst themselves. 

Mairead recognized the three boys who had been in the lobby of the house the evening before. The Italian and the boy with the bandanna had already spotted her and were whispering back and forth, laughing. She hung her head in shame. The young man with the eyepatch, two, was among them, and as he walked, he turned his head to look at her. His visible eye was cold, and as soon as he had made eye contact with the girl he turned his head away again and continued on down the street. 

As soon as the group of boys had disappeared around the corner, Mairead gathered her belongings and crossed the street to the lodging house. She entered through the front door. 

Kloppman was sweeping the hard wooden floor of the lobby. He looked up at Mairead and frowned. "Can I help ye?" 

"I apologize, sir, but may I use a basin of water in your washroom? You see, I'm trying to find a job, and - " 

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Be outta here in an hour, or I'll call th' police on ye," the old man answered, shaking his head and muttering as he went back to sweeping. 

Shakily, Mairead made her way up the seemingly endless staircase. Her weakness and hunger were getting the better of her, and several times she had to stop on the stairs, clutching the rail, praying to remain concious. Finally, she found the deserted washroom, and managed to drag an empty washtub to the water pump. Slowly, she pumped the basin full of freezing water, and, gritting her teeth, got into the bath. She used a bar of soap she found on a sink to wash the grime from her skin, and rinsed her hair out as best as she could. Not having a towel to dry with when she got out, Mairead searched the room with her eyes until she spotted a towel hanging on a lavatory door. She used it to dry off with, and then changed back into her tattered dress. The men's clothes were still stuffed into her small bag, as well as a few items of little or no worth to Mairead on the streets. 

Standing in front of a grimy mirror, Mairead managed to pull her wet hair back into a braid and secure it with a piece of string from her tattered traveling coat. She pinched her cheeks a bit and rubbed at her eyes, which were still red from sleep and tears. Feeling eyes on her, Mairead slowly turned around to look toward the washroom door. 

There stood the young man with the eyepatch. He looked nearly as surprised as she. 

"I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed, raising a hand to her heart. "How long have you been standing there?" 

"I just got here," he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets. "May I ask whatcha doin'?" 

"Kloppman said I could take a bath if I was gone in an hour," she replied, hastily gathering her things. 

"What, goin' out lookin' for a job?" he asked indifferently, checking his reflection in the mirror. 

"I suppose, if there are any jobs to be had," Mairead answered, sitting down on the floor to lace up her boots. 

"Oh, there's plently jobs," the young man said, "but most of 'em are dishonest. I guess ya gotta know where ta look." 

Mairead paused for a moment, watching him. "Do _you_ know where to look?" 

The young man shrugged. "I dunno. Do I?" 

Sighing, Mairead stood and picked up her bundle. "Well, I suppose you'll be no help to me. I must be going." 

"Y'gonna tote that bag witcha all day?" he asked as she began out the door. 

Mairead stopped in her tracks. "I suppose. I've nowhere to leave it." 

"I'll keep it here with me," he answered, advancing toward her as if to take her bundle. 

She shrank back. "I - Don't be silly. I don't even know your name." 

"It's Kid Blink, for starters. And you're Mairead," he answered, leaning against the doorframe. 

"What kind of a name is Kid Blink?" she asked warily, backing up another step. 

"Y'see this patch? Well th' boys decided to call me Kid Blink on account of I wear this patch over me eye." 

"I can see that...What happened to your eye?" Mairead ventured, not sure whether she really wanted to know. 

"Y'can't _see_ anything wrong with it," Blink answered, lifting up the patch. Another blue eye sparkled from underneath it. "Somethin' happened when I was a kid, made me go blind in that eye. When Cowboy an' the fellas found out I couldn't see out of it, they thought it'd be funny to give me a patch for my birthday, just t' be mean. I ended up likin' the thing and wearin' it all the time. It's good for business." 

Mairead studied him. "Why is it good for business?" 

"People pay more to a kid who's got somethin' visibly wrong with 'im. Like, Cowboy may get a penny for each pape he sells, but I might end up with two," he replied. 

An brief, uncomfortable silence rested over the two. 

"Y'gonna go get a job or what?" Blink asked, chewing on the inside of his lip. 

"I already tried several factories...they wouldn't take me." Mairead stared past Blink and out the window at the blue sky. 

"Well, I'll tell ya one thing, y'don't wanna work for no fact'ry," he said. "Ain't nothin' but trouble." 

"Can a girl sell newspapers?" Mairead asked. 

Blink shrugged. "Yeah. They don't do it much, though. Ya look like you're more suited to a quiet job without a lot a' runnin' around." 

"At this moment I will take any job that I can get," Mairead answered. 

"Look," Blink began, "you don't wanna be a newsy. It ain't gonna get a lady like you scrap in this city. Go work in a flower shop, or with a seamstress. Don't be a newsy." 

"None of you seem to have such a hard life, compared to where I have been living," Mairead answered defiantly. 

"Maybe it ain't so hard as it could be, but d'you see any one of us that's gonna amount ta anything, ever?" Blink stopped suddenly, surprised at his outburst. 

Mairead was silent for a moment. "I just need a place to stay. I'm willing to - " 

"I know, I know," Blink interrupted. "It's gonna hurt t'see somebody like you workin' a job like a newsy." 

"Then you'll help me get a job?" she asked hopefully. 

"Ain't nothin' to it but havin' a couple bits on hand to buy papes at the distribution office," Blink answered, trying to force a smile. "This evenin', when the circulation bell rings, be down at Newspaper Row. I'll meetcha there and show ya how it works." 

Mairead smiled. "Thank you, Blink." 

Before she turned to leave, Mairead stopped. "Are there any lodging houses for girls here?" 

"Down th'road. They won't take ya 'till y'can prove ya got a job," Blink answered, taking off his cap and using it as a fan. 

"Will they take me tonight, after I sell my papers?" Mairead asked hopefully. 

Blink shrugged indifferently. "They should." 

Mairead thought for a moment. "Earlier you said that you would keep my things here for me. Could you - " 

"Yeah, sure, hand 'em here," Blink said, taking Mairead's bundle from her. "Follow me." 

She followed Blink down the hall and into the bunkroom. He sauntered over to a bunk and slung her bag down onto it. "Your stuff'll stay on my bunk all day. Don't worry 'bout it none." 

Mairead smiled. "Thank you, Blink." Her stomach rumbled with hunger and she suddenly felt weak. 

Blink didn't answer for a moment. "You best get out of here. Kloppman sees ya he'll call th' bulls. He already thinks yer a troublemaker." 

Mairead nodded weakly. Before leaving, she dug into her bag and produced the small amount of money she had left - just enough to buy a stack of newspapers that night. Then, she turned and left the room. As she descended the stairs, beads of sweat broke out across her forehead. She stopped, gripping the railing. Everything became a blur, and suddenly she knew no more. 


	4. four

Mairead was awakened suddenly by the strong smelling salt held underneath her nose by Kloppman. She quickly became aware of the pounding in her head and the emptiness in her stomach. Suddenly she felt herself begin to lose conciousness again, but Blink, who was sitting next to her on the floor, shook her awake and pulled her into a sitting position while Kloppman forced stale bread between her lips and gruffly ordered her to chew and swallow. After the first bite, he held a cup of water to her mouth and made her drink. 

"Kid, go get a rag, she's bleedin'," he ordered. 

She sensed Blink leave her side and a moment later return. There was suddenly intense pressure on the back of her head, and she cried out in pain. Blink attempted in vain to soothe her. "Shh..." 

Their voices faded in and out in Mairead's mind. She vaguely sensed the food and water she was consuming, and barely felt the presences of Blink and Kloppman. 

Kloppman looked to the young man. "I don't know what we're s'posed to do with her now. She can't go to no refuge. They won't feed 'er good there." 

Blink thought for a moment. "She could stay here, 'least till she gets well enough to work and live in a girls' house." 

Kloppman shook his head. "She can't stay. This is a boys' house. No tellin'..." He trailed off and continued feeding her the stale bread, which was nearly gone. 

"Well it ain't like we can just leave her in that doorway she's been sleepin' in for who knows how long," Blink argued. "This girl might actually make somethin' of herself one day...she can't do no good to nobody if she dies sleepin' on th' streets." 

"You sayin' it'd be my fault if she died out there?" Kloppman asked Blink, bristling slightly. 

"No, I didn't say that, Klop. _You_ said that," Blink answered. "Y'might wanna listen t'yer conscience once in a while." 

Kloppman snorted. "That's comin' from a newsy." 

"Yeah, come t'think of it, it is," Blink answered smartly. If he hadn't been holding Mairead up he might have stood and left at that moment. 

All was silent for a moment, but finally Kloppman sighed heavily. "Fine. She can stay just 'till she gets well enough to move into a girl's house. I'll expect pay when she gets a job." 

Blink felt something in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't felt in years; he thought for a moment that it might actually be happiness. Shaking himself, he pushed it away. _Happiness don't exist. I learned that a long time ago._

*** 

"Who's the doll?" 

"Hey, Blink, why didn't ya bring me one?" 

"Knock it off, fellas." 

As Mairead slowly came around, she began to take notice of her surroundings. She was lying on a bunk at the lodging house, her head underneath several pillows. Something didn't feel right, and she raised her hands to feel a coarse bandage wrapped around her head. Her mouth was dry and her tounge felt thick; when she tried to call out to Blink all that escaped her lips was a slight squeak. Mairead reached up to rub her eyes groggily. When all came into focus, she noticed several teenage boys lounging around the bunkroom. 

Suddenly Blink was sitting backward in a chair beside the bunk. "Y'know, you gotta think of a better way to get a bunk in a boys' lodgin' house." He almost cracked a real smile. 

Mairead smiled weakly. "Do you have any water?" she forced out of her dry throat. 

"Oh, yeah, hang on," Blink answered, jumping up from the chair and exiting the room. He returned several minutes later with a glass of water in hand. "Here ya go." 

Blink helped Mairead drink the water slowly. Several of the boys crowded around until he turned to give them all a dirty look, after which they backed off and eventually left the room. 

"Are ya hungry or anythin'?" Blink asked Mairead as she lay her head back on the pillow. 

She thought for a moment. "Yes, now that I think of it." 

"Well, I'll bring ya up somethin'. I'll be back," he said, standing from the chair again. 

"Thank you," Mairead whispered. 

She was still weak, but she managed to sit up in bed and look around. The young Italian man entered the bunkroom, wringing his cap in his hands, as if looking for something. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Mairead. 

"What are _you_ doin' here, Greek?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain. 

"She's sick, Racetrack. Now get outta here and quit interrogatin'." 

A young man had entered behind Racetrack and cast a small smile Mairead's way. He was tanned, with short, kinky brown hair and laughing eyes. 

"This ain't your conversation, Mush," Race shot back. Apparently, he found what he was looking for: a cheap, beat-up cigar that he immediately pocketed before exiting the bunkroom. 

"They call you Greek?" Mush asked as he took a seat next to Mairead. 

She shrugged, staring at her hands. "They don't like me." 

"Y'can't worry 'bout those guys. Really. There's a couple a' nice ones here. Me, for example." He chuckled slightly. 

"Kid Blink is nice," Mairead whispered. 

"Yeah, he's one a' my best pals," Mush answered. "Ol' Kloppman's nice, too, once you get on his good side." 

Mairead didn't answer. She was only barely aware of her surroundings and seemed to drift in and out of reality. Just as she felt herself drifting into oblivion once again, Blink snapped her out of it. 

"Get up, Mush. Pull over a chair," he commanded. 

"Eh, get yer own, ya bum," Mush answered, punching his friend in the arm as he got up to pull over his own chair. 

Blink plopped down into the chair beside Mairead. "Here, Mair, eat this." He spooned out some soup and held it to her lips. 

After several spoonfulls of the soup, Mairead began coming around. She eventually took the bowl from Blink and fed herself while he and Mush talked to each other about the day's headlines and how well business was going. 

"When do I begin work?" Mairead asked softly. 

"When you get well," Blink answered. "Klop's lettin' ya stay here until you're well and can find a girls' house to live in." 

She nodded. A look of concern crossed Mush's face. "Ya gotta be careful. This house ain't always safe for a girl." 

Mairead felt a stab of fear, but Blink calmed her nerves. "Don't worry, Mair. Me an' Mush'll look out for ya. You'll be fine." 

"Thank you." She smiled a bit before handing the bowl to Blink and sinking down into her thin pillow. 

"YOu need to rest," Blink said, standing and motioning for Mush to do the same. "We'll keep an eye on ya." 

Nodding, Mairead pulled her covers up and closed her eyes. She drifted to sleep in no time. 


	5. five

Four days later, Mairead had regained her strength and would be able to leave the lodging house, much to her relief. Every night had been torment; she lay awake in fear of the boys, particularly Jack Kelly and Racetrack Higgins. Their daily torture of her put a fear of the nights into her mind, although nothing ever happened. Kid Blink and Mush slept fitfully, waking often to glance over at Mairead and make sure that she was safe. 

Unbeknownst to Mairead, Mush and Blink paid Kloppman the money for the time that she had spent in the house. 

On the morning of her departure, Mairead sat on her bed in the empty bunkroom, deep in thought. She wondered where she would find a girls' house, whether or not she would end up back on the streets, and whether or not she would work as a newsy. Mairead was wary of all the boys in the house except for Mush and Blink. There were a few who seemed nice, but they never spoke to her, and so she never knew. 

Mairead had just finished twisting her hair into a long braid when Blink sauntered through the door. "How's it, Mair?" 

"Fine," she answered, tying the end of the braid and looking up at Blink. "Although...I really don't know where I can go. I don't know where to find any girls' lodging houses." 

"Me'n Mush can take ya to one," he answered. "There's a nice house several blocks away." Blink paused for a moment. "You ain't still figurin' on bein' a newsy...?" 

Mairead shook her head slightly. "I really don't know, Blink. I'm...uneasy about it." 

"Like I said, it probably ain't a good idea," he replied. "I'll take ya around town today to try and help you find someplace else to work. I don't want ya workin' as a newsy." 

The three were silent as they headed downstairs and outside. There was a biting chill on the early-morning breeze, and Mairead hugged herself tightly in a vain attempt to keep the cold from her bones. Her bag felt heavy all of a sudden, and a wave of the weakness that she thought had left her seized her. She ceased walking and collapsed to the ground in a sitting position, resting her head in her hands. "Blink..." 

"Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling down beside her. Mush picked up her bag and held it at his side, looking down at her. 

"I...I think so," she answered, trying to stand. Blink took her by the arms and helped her up. "I don't know what came over me..." 

"Just take it easy, Mair," Mush said. "We're in no hurry." 

"Are you sure you can walk a couple blocks?" Blink asked, holding onto her arm protectively as they began walking again. 

Mairead nodded. "Yes. I refuse to spend another night in your lodging house. It frightens me." 

The three friends were silent for a long moment. "Hey, Mush, you got a cigarette?" Blink asked. 

Mush shook his head. "Never. Ain't like I can afford none." 

Blink sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. A comfortable silence fell over the three as they made their way down the street once more. Mush and Blink watched Mairead carefully, making sure that she had the strength to keep walking. 

From across the street came the loud crash of breaking glass. Mairead, Blink, and Mush whipped their heads toward the sound, alarmed. There was a hole in the window of an old tenement building, and out of the corner of her eye Mairead spotted two figures racing away. Upon glancing back toward the old building, she was shocked to see bright red flames licking at the wooden staircase just on the other side of the window. There was a shriek, and suddenly, women and children were racing down the fire escape, the burning staircase. Mairead watched in horror as the women and their children crowded closer by the minute, all struggling to escape a fiery death. 

Suddenly Mairead could bear it no longer, and she turned her head away from the growing blaze, tears in her eyes. Mush and Blink stared into the flames. 

"Aren't you going to help them?" Mairead whispered. 

No answer. She felt Blink's hand on her arm. "C'mon, let's go." 

*** 

Later that evening, Mush, Blink, and Mairead sat on the steps of the girls' lodging house that was to be her new home. "Why would someone do something like that?" Mairead whispered, hugging herself to protect against the evening chill. 

"Bad business deal, maybe," Blink answered, shrugging. 

"Or just hate," Mush said softly, staring down at the ground. "I wish I'd tried to help them." 

"Are you crazy, Myers?" Blink asked with a look of disbelief. "It's every man for himself out here! We can't be worryin' about the people that don't matter." 

There was a long silence. Mairead stared at Blink unbelievingly before she stood to leave. "Blink, I never thought that I would hear something like that from you." She looked down at Mush. "Thank you for being a friend to me. I suppose I'll see you later." 

As she began toward the door, Blink called out. "Wait, Mair! What did I - " 

She stopped him with the look in her eyes. 

Blink suffered under her glare for only a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered. 

Mairead shook her head and stepped through the door of the lodging house, shutting it behind her. 

Blink sat back down beside Mush, dejected. 

"It hurt her real bad to see that, Blink," Mush began. "You didn't help it none." 

"I said I was sorry. What else does she want from me, huh?" Blink looked long and hard at his friend, awaiting an answer. 

Mush searched for an answer for a long moment. "Maybe you should ask her yourself. And when you say you're sorry, mean it for once." 

*** 

_ Yeah, yeah, I know it was a much shorter chapter than usual, but I need to get back into the swing of things. I promise a longer chapter next time! *grin*_


	6. six

Mairead awoke early the next morning before any of the other girls in the house did. She lay awake for a long while before quietly getting out of bed, gathering her clothes, and heading across the hall toward the washroom. 

Mairead had taken up residence in the Anderson Lodging House for Girls. The day before, after her witnessing of the tenement fire, Blink and Mush had taken her to the Watson Textile Mill, where she had been given a job as a spinner. This was her first day of work, so she was anxious to make a good impression. 

She walked gingerly across the creaky wooden floor and into the washroom. The walls were bare and unpainted; the wash basin and the sinks were filthy, and the water ran at a drip. Frustrated, Mairead wondered to herself why it was that a boys' lodging house was so much nicer than a girls'. _Goodness knows that girls are cleaner by nature,_ she thought angrily as she waited for enough water to drip into her hands so that she could wash her face. She recalled Kloppman saying that the girls' boarding houses were better than the boys'. _This proves how much he knows about the subject._

Standing in front of the cracked and dirty mirror, she brushed her long, curly black hair until it pleased her. She pinched her cheeks to give them color, and then gathered her nightgown and made her way back to the bunkroom, where the other girls were beginning to awaken. Placing her things on her bunk, Mairead turned to go downstairs, but one of the girls, a younger girl with auburn hair and bright green eyes, stopped her. 

"You're the new boarder. I'm Anna," she said, sticking out her hand. 

Mairead shook her hand. "Mairead. How long have you lived here?" 

Anna thought for a moment. "Couldn't tell ya how long. My parents put me out when I was a little kid 'cause they didn't have enough money. What's your story?" 

"Oh, I - I ran away from home," Mairead answered uncomfortably, averting her eyes to the floor. 

"You have a home, and you left?" Anna asked in disbelief. "Was it nice?" 

"At the time, I didn't think so," Mairead answered. "But now I look back and realize that it was the biggest mistake I've ever made." 

"Were you rich?" Anna asked, her eyes widening. 

"All right, Anna, that's enough," another girl intervened. This girl looked possibly older than Mairead, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a discontent look upon her face. 

"I was just - " 

The brunette gave Anna a death look. "Go get washed up." 

"Oh, she wasn't bothering me," Mairead offered with a small smile. 

"Well, she was bothering _me_," the brunette snapped, making sure Anna left for the washroom. "We don't need any little rich girls running around the place, so you'd better come down to our level or leave." 

"I never said - " 

"You didn't have to say it, we could tell, you with your 'holier than thou' attitude. Quit struttin' around - " 

"I don't think I'm better than anyone," Mairead interjected. "I'm only trying to stay alive." 

The brunette girl looked at her for a second, and then stuck out her hand. "Emma St. James. I'm Anna's older sister." 

"Mairead." She shook hands with Emma, somewhat dazed by the total change in character. 

"I guess you're working in the factory?" Emma asked. 

Mairead nodded slightly. "Spinner," she answered. 

"So am I," Emma said. "Awful place. You don't want to work there any longer than you have to." 

"Why?" 

"You'll see." 

*** 

Emma and Mairead had adjacent work stations in the large textile mill. The whirring machines were so loud that Mairead couldn't hear herself think or speak, and since all the windows were nailed shut, it was nearly impossible to breathe. There were cotton particles in the air that she inhaled every time she attempted to take a breath, and that would set her coughing. 

"You get used to the air here after a while," Emma offered as she climbed up onto the machine to change out bobbins on her huge mechanized loom. "Jimmy the doffer is gone today, so we have to change out our own bobbins." 

Mairead noticed that Emma had no shoes. Suddenly, Mairead heard her curse loudly. Emma stepped down from the machine, her left foot covered in blood. With a grimace on her face, she said, "It caught my toe again." 

"Why don't you have any shoes on?" Mairead asked, glancing down at her own worn boots. 

"Easier to climb the machines if I don't wear shoes," Emma answered. "You can slip and fall into the gears if you climb up with shoes on. Besides, I can't afford them." 

"This is dangerous," Mairead said, watching her loom once more. 

She spotted a knot in the thread, and reached up to untangle it. The gears cut into her fingers, and she bit her lip as she finished untangling the thread, which was now stained with blood. Pulling her hands back, she looked down at them. Her fingers were raw and bleeding. Emma noticed this. 

"You'll get tough after a month or so," she said as she watched her thread. 

At that moment the fixer rounded the corner to inspect the machines. It was a young man who looked to be around nineteen years old, with blonde hair and green eyes. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Mairead. She made eye contact with him and her stomach lurched. 

"You're not supposed to wear your hair loose, girl," he said, eyeing her. 

The fixer looked around for a moment before spotting what he wanted. He crossed the aisle between looms and picked up a pair of scissors. Coming back to Mairead, he had a wicked grin on his face. "Turn around, girl, and get back to your job." 

Slowly, Mairead turned to watch her loom, but she couldn't see the threads for the tears in her eyes. The young man took hold of her hair and began hacking it off with the scissors until Mairead had an short, uneven cut that ended just below her ears. 

"A reminder to tie your hair back before coming to work," he said maliciously, grinning at the back of Mairead's head. "Of course, now you have nothing to tie back." 

"What was that, Jacob?!" Emma asked angrily. "You could have just tied her hair back with some extra thread!" 

He didn't answer, but ignored Emma as he tossed the scissors down onto the concrete floor and went to fix a loom two rows down. 

Mairead sobbed silently as she tried watching the threads. Emma came over to change the bobbins for her, but said nothing of the incident with the fixer. 

*** 

Mairead found herself at the door of the Duane St. lodging house late that evening. Kloppman answered. 

"You again? Whaddya want?" 

"I need to see Mush, please," Mairead said softly. 

"He ain't here. Him an' the guys is gone to Tibby's. You know where that is?" 

Mairead hesitated for a moment. "No, sir. I'm afraid I don't." 

Kloppman sighed and pointed. "Two blocks that way, on the corner." 

"Thank you," Mairead said as Kloppman shut the door in her face. 

She made her way the two blocks to Tibby's. Stopping in front of the door, she looked in. Mush and Blink sat at a table with several other newsies, two of them being Race and Jack. She groaned inwardly, but pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

Mairead made her way slowly over to Mush's table. He looked up and did a double-take. "Mair? Is that you?" 

She instantly wished that she hadn't gone to Tibby's, because every head at the table turned toward her except for Blink's. He stared into his plate. 

"Whoa, Greek. You look like h - " 

"Shaddup, Race," Mush interrupted, standing. "C'mon, Mair." 

The two headed outside and down the street, away from Tibby's. 

"What happened, Mair?" Mush asked once they had stopped. 

Mairead burst into tears. "It was horrible, Mush! Why would Blink tell me that being a newsy is worse than factory work?" 

"Shh, shh." Mush was uncomfortable in trying to calm her down. "Blink don't know, he never worked in a factory. What happened to your hands?" 

"The loom cut them up when I was taking out a tangle in the thread," Mairead answered, looking down at her hands again. "And the fixer cut all my hair off." 

"What'd he do that for?" Mush asked, angered. 

"Because I didn't tie it back," Mairead cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

Mush patted her on the shoulder. "Everything's gonna get better. You just have to wait for it." 

Mairead tried to force a smile, but in her heart she knew that things couldn't possibly improve. 


	7. seven

The next morning, as Mairead and Emma worked their looms in the factory, a man with an expensive gray suit, a pocketwatch, a black mustache, and ice-cold gray eyes stepped up to the girls. Looking down on Mairead, he asked, "Are you the fool girl whose blood is on this fabric?" 

He held up a white blouse. Toward the bottom was a barely-noticeable bloodstain that tarnished a few fibers. Mairead swallowed hard, her heart pounding and her knees growing shaky. "Y-yes, sir," she whispered, making eye contact with the man. 

"Eyes to the floor, girl!" he barked, drawing his hand upward as if to strike her. Mairead flinched and did as he told her. 

Emma had long since backed away and was pretending to be busy with her loom. The man turned to her. "You watch her, girl, do you hear me? If she stains one more _thread_, I swear I'll - " 

"Mr. Tanner, there you are," Jacob, the fixer who had cut Mairead's hair off, said as he rounded the corner. "I meant to tell you about this little wench yesterday." 

Mr. Tanner shifted his icy glare from Mairead to Jacob. "What else has she done?" 

"I caught her without her hair pulled back, so I took the necessary actions," Jacob answered with an unfeeling smirk at Mairead. 

Mr. Tanner looked back at Mairead for a moment. "Who gave you this job?" 

"S-some friends of mine brought me here, sir," she answered shakily. "A man at the front of the building..." 

Mairead trailed off. She noticed a thin, curving wisp of black smoke rising from a machine two rows over. 

"Finish your sentence, girl," Mr. Tanner urged. He noticed that her attention was turned away from him. "What are you gawking at?" 

Before Mairead could answer, there was a loud cry of, "Fire!" 

Jacob took off running toward the source of the smoke. Several of the workers ran to get water to douse the fire with. The overseers unlocked the huge doors and allowed them to race outside to fetch it. After a moment, the commotion died down and Jacob returned, his face smeared with grease and sweat. 

"The machine, sir," he said as Mr. Tanner stared at him. "You may want to disable it for the time being. It - " 

"I will disable nothing, Jacob! It is obviously safe enough to turn out several yards of fabric a day. Keep it running." The businessman's icy eyes could have frozen over magma as he stared hard at the fixer. 

Jacob opened his mouth to say something further, but decided against it and instead answered, "Yes, sir." 

Mr. Tanner averted his attention once more to Mairead. "And you, girl," he began, pointing a finger in her face, "don't you forget what I've said to you." 

Mairead opened her mouth. "Yes, si - " 

"DON'T YOU FORGET IT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" 

Tears threatened to pour down Mairead's cheeks as she managed to nod. Mr. Tanner spun on his heel and walked off without another word. Jacob tried to give Mairead a half-apologetic look, but quickly walked away himself without a word. 

"Fool!" Emma murmered to herself. "Running that machine even when it's already been on fire. He's going to get us all killed." 

*** 

Mairead lowered herself to the curb outside the main gate of the mill and sighed heavily, loosening the laces on her shoes. She munched halfheartedly on her bread that she'd bought earlier that morning, staring into the street and the people passing by. Glancing down at her hands, she winced. They looked horrible. 

"Mair? What happened to your hands?" 

The sudden voice scared Mairead to death, and she jumped a little, soon finding herself looking into the face of Kid Blink. Her facade dropped slightly as she registered who it was. 

"Why do you even care what happened?" 

There was an awkward silence. Mairead shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground as Blink abruptly sat down beside her. 

"I wanted to talk to ya," he began hesitantly. "I'm sorry for what I said...y'know..." 

Mairead looked over at him. "It's done now." 

Blink's head dropped slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck, ashamed. His cheeks were reddening. Mairead continued, "But I forgive you." 

His head snapped up and he looked her in the face. "Serious?" 

Mairead shrugged slightly, trying to appear indifferent. "I suppose." 

Blink sighed with relief. The two shared another brief silence until he broke it again. 

"You never told me what happened to your hands." 

Mairead looked down again self-conciously. "The machine." 

"I feel really bad that I made ya work here, Mair," Blink said. "I didn't know it was this bad. I thought I was protectin' you." 

"I know you meant well," she said. "I wish I could quit." 

"Why don't you?" 

Mairead was silent for a moment, and then shrugged slightly. "I don't know...perhaps I should consider it in the next few days." 

"Quit _now_," Blink said. "Get a job with a seamstress or something." 

"Are you still trying to keep me from selling papers?" Mairead inquired, watching the blonde- headed boy adjust his hat nervously. 

He nodded, fumbling with his straggly bootlaces. "I still don't want you out there alone. I mean, who knows what could happen to you? Too much goes on in back alleys and dark corners that I don't want you to be a part of. I don't want you to see it. You don't deserve that." 

Mairead pushed her now-short hair behind her ear and watched Blink twist his bootlaces around his fingers, callused and blackened by the ink of the newspapers and the grime of the streets. "Why do you worry about my well-being so?" 

Blink didn't answer, but stood to leave. Alarmed, Mairead stood as well. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he had planted a quick, firm kiss on her lips and stepped back several feet. Her head swam. 

"Quit your job, Mairead. It ain't safe." 

That was the last thing Blink said to Mairead before turning quickly and walking away. 

*** 

"Why do they lock the doors?" 

Mairead and Emma were busy at their looms, watching the threads and bobbins intently. Emma couldn't hear Mairead over the whir of the machines. "What?" 

"I said, why do they lock the doors?" Mairead repeated, this time much louder. 

Emma shrugged. "They've always done that. You just notice?" 

"Well what if we have to get out? What if something happens and we can't get out because the doors are locked?" 

Emma didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, she answered, "Well, I guess we all die." 

"They've no respect for human life," Mairead said angrily, more to herself than to anyone else. 

"It don't take a brain surgeon to figure that one out." 

Mairead turned to face Jacob. "I wasn't talking to you." 

"Oh, now she's too good for me," Jacob mocked, picking up a near pair of scissors. "Snip, snip, girl." 

Mairead expected her eyes to fill with tears, but instead she brimmed with rage. Her hands shook with anger as she attempted to change a bobbin, causing her to deeply gash her already-marred hands. She hissed in pain but refused to cry. Jacob was still watching with a smug grin on his face. 

"Can't wait to see what Mr. Tanner says about the bloodstains on the cloth this time," he spat. "I hope he fires you." 

"He won't get the chance," Mairead snapped back. "I'm quitting." 

Before Jacob had a chance to snap back, there was a loud popping noise two rows down. Suddenly, there were shouts from all around that echoed back and forth across the large room. Mairead whipped her head around in time to spot large, menacing orange and red flames leaping high into the air. Sparks flew as the flames grew larger and the men rushed for water. But something was wrong. 

Frantically, the men and boys pounded on the huge locked doors. There were no overseers there to unlock them. The sudden realization hit Mairead and she ran for the doors as well, followed by Emma and Jacob. "Let us out!" the men screamed, pounding with their fists on the doors. 

The room began to grow swelteringly hot as the fire spread from machine to machine, leaping from fiber to fiber and taking hold of the atmosphere. It began to grow hard to breathe. Mairead sank to the floor. Emma tried to pull her back up, but she refused. "It's cooler down here, Emma..." 

Finally, Emma lay down on the floor beside Mairead, tears in her eyes. "You were right," she said over the noise of the workers' frantic cries for help. "It is cooler." 


	8. eight

Blink sat on the front steps of a home two streets over from Duane, his mind on Mairead. He had never finished selling his papers; the stack of those that were left sat beside him on the step, forgotten for the time being. Rubbing a hand over his face and smearing black newsprint over his cheek, nose, and chin, he sighed. 

_I wish she were here now._

Blink thought back to a few short hours before, when he had kissed Mairead. He hadn't planned to do so, but it just happened - it was like an unseen hand pushed him in her direction. Taking off his hat, he ran a trembling hand through his hair. The kiss had seemed surreal, like he had only dreamed it and awakened to believe that it had really happened. _Did I really kiss her?_ he thought, knowing the answer. _I can't remember anything that I said or did afterwards...it's all blurry. I don't even remember how I got **here**..._

The young man was suddenly jerked out of his blissful haze by the greeting of a young newsy by the nickname of Tooth (because he was missing one of his front teeth). "Heya Kid." 

The haze cleared. "Hey, Tooth. What ya up to?" 

The red-headed boy's gray eyes lit up with excitement. "I seen a fire. Just now, a couple blocks from here." 

"Fire?" Blink asked, a strange knot forming in the pit of his stomach. 

He tried to shake it off, but the boy's next words sent him spinning. 

"It's that old Watson Mill. Burnin' to the ground," he said proudly, a glow of importance in his eyes. 

Blink's stomach lurched. "The workers - were they out?" 

"Nope, that's just the problem," Tooth said, as if excited to be the bearer of tragic news. "They's locked in." 


	9. nine

Mairead lay in a rumpled heap on the floor, her head resting on her arm, her eyes halfway open to the terror before her. Tears ran down her face. "Blink..." she whispered, drawing in a shaky breath. 

The air was thick, much thicker than it had ever been. Smoke from the fire stung her eyes, filled her lungs. Heat swallowed her whole; the fire was raging out of control and was crawling steadily nearer. Most of the workers had attempted to cram into the space near the still-locked doors, making breathing an even more difficult task. Mairead tried to keep her eyes averted from the bodies of those lost, but she repeatedly found her eyes resting on them, and each time would close her eyes with a gasp. Although she closed her eyes, their images remained, clear as day. 

Emma sat beside her, hugging herself and sobbing silently. Jacob, who was a few feet from her, slowly inched his way toward Emma and put a comforting arm around her, stroking her face with his other hand. She looked up toward him and allowed a small, hopeless smile to reach her face. Mairead watched as Jacob leaned down and kissed Emma's forehead, and then her lips. Tears welled up in her eyes again; how she wished Blink were there to rescue her! 

Mairead attempted to draw a breath, but drew in nothing but thick, black smoke. She coughed violently, and when she tried to catch her breath she coughed more still. Her lungs burned. She couldn't breathe. Her chest tightened and she doubled over as she lay on her side, if such is possible. Desperately, she ripped a strip of cloth off her skirt and held it to her nose, hoping to draw oxygen in in that way. It worked a little, but she didn't cease to cough. 

The blaze crept ever closer. Mairead trembled with fear. All she wanted was to see Blink again. 

*** 

Blink's sides ached and his lungs burned as he ran toward the mill. He could see the black smoke rising from the building, and as he drew nearer he could hear the frantic screams of the people inside. _Mairead..._

He pushed himself harder. He had to reach her. 

_She can't die. I can't live without her._

Just as he reached the grounds of the mill, he spotted several burly men racing toward the doors with keys in their hands. 

_Keys!_

They hastily unlocked the doors and pulled them open, several of the workers who had been leaning against them stumbling out into the fresh air and dropping to their knees, gasping for breath. Of those whom Blink saw coming out, he didn't see Mairead. His stomach lurched. 

Blink pushed his way violently through the crowd and past the protesting overseers. He raced through the doors, looking around frantically for Mairead. His heart stopped when he spotted her lifeless form crumpled on the ground. 

"Mair!" he cried, rushing toward her. 

The smoke stung his eyes and he coughed. He took Mairead in his arms and lifted her off the ground, carrying her outside as quickly as he could. 

Mairead looked into Blink's face through blurred vision. "Blink..." she heard herself whisper, resting her head against his comfortable shoulder. 

"I'm here," he whispered gently, lowering her to the ground and holding her in his arms. 

Mairead's face was stained with soot, and she had burns on her left arm and leg. She coughed violently; she couldn't seem to catch her breath. 

Mairead reached up and touched Blink's face. "I can't believe you came," she said softly. 

Blink took her hand in his and kissed the palm gently, placing it over his cheek. He allowed her to continue. 

"All I wanted was to see you again," she whispered, gazing up into his face. 

Blink felt his eyes well with tears as he pulled her close to him and kissed her softly. He held her tight, rocking her back and forth. Feeling her slowly begin to relax, Blink stared frantically into her face. "You can't leave me," he whispered, tears dropping from his cheeks into her hair. "I wish you'd never run away from home." 

Mairead struggled to find breath. "I'm glad I came to New York," she whispered. "If I hadn't, I would have never met you." 

Blink completely lost it. His body was wracked with sobs as he held Mairead. She didn't cry, but was calm, her pale face looking up into his, concerned and loving and peaceful all at once. She stroked his face with her hand. "Would you kiss me again, Kid Blink?" she whispered. 

Blink didn't need to be asked twice. He kissed her with all his might, with all the emotion that he posessed. After a long moment, he pulled away from her. "I love you, Blink," she said softly, closing her eyes. 

"Mairead - " 

He stopped for a moment, gazing at her face. She was paling more. 

"I love you. Don't go! Mairead, d - " 

Suddenly, he knew as he looked into her face. She was gone. 

Blink sobbed as he held her close. He didn't want to let go. 

*** 

It wasn't long until they came and took Mairead away from Blink. He remained seated on the ground, his tearstained face staring into oblivion. There was still a commotion about the place; there were newspaper reporters interviewing Mr. Tanner and the overseers, and Teddy Roosevelt himself had been over to survey the damage and shake a disapproving fist at Mr. Tanner. None of this comforted Blink. 

A reporter who had been trying his hardest to get an interview but as yet had failed, spotted Blink. Seeing an opportunity, he raced over to the newsy. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you give me your account of what happened today?" 

The young man's forlorn face turned to the man. "She's dead." 

The reporter scribbled something on his pad of paper. "Lives lost in Watson fire, many left to mourn," he muttered to himself. He looked at Blink. "And the girl you loved, is she dead?" 

"Leave me out of this," Blink muttered, drawing a hand across his eyes to prevent his tears from spilling over his cheeks. 

"Can I ask - " 

Blink raised his voice. "I said, leave me out!" 

The reporter looked shocked. Blink continued. "You've got a nice place, a roof over your head all the time. You can eat whenever you want. You don't have to worry about the people you love working and dying in a mill fire." He drew a shuddering gasp. "Don't you even try to make money off my words, because you were never in our place! You never will be," he said bitterly. 

All this time, the reporter had been frantically scribbling down Blink's words. He stood, fished in his pocket, and dropped several coins onto the ground beside Blink. "Such is the plight of the unfortunate," he said as he checked his gold pocketwatch, tipped his hat to Blink, and walked away. 

THE END 


End file.
